my skin hasn’t begun
to make that slow crawl,
but i know it will come.
i see it, the taste is still
fresh on my tongue.
…
i get moments in warm
sun-kissed hues.
more and more i wonder
if maybe the fall
is more like my color.
…
maybe it’s the pain
that i crave,
perhaps it craves me.
the quiet inertia
pulling and tugging, comforting, familiar, and welcome.
…
you cannot push something
un-moving or un-changing.
this hunger is tragic
whirling and twisting
disfiguring and distorting things unseen.
…
i want to feel full,
that control lies just within grasp
until it’s not again.
the cup in my soul
barren and dry.
—
“there’s a possibility, all that i had, was all i’m gon’ get…”
by dani
she writes here. follow her on twitter here.
©2011 JTW “jtwhitaker.com” All rights reserved.
